


Jealousy Leads to Exhibitionism..?

by pierceplotholes



Series: Misc Fics Within No Canon [4]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Age Difference, Exhibitionism, F/M, Friends to Lovers, It went out the window decades ago, Jealousy, Loud Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Tel is too old to feel shame, Vaguest mentions of a previous relationship with Farkas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 04:00:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5693791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pierceplotholes/pseuds/pierceplotholes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finja stops in at Jorrvaskr to catch up with her shield-siblings, and Teldryn doesn't handle well the fact that everybody wants to get into his patron's pants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jealousy Leads to Exhibitionism..?

**Author's Note:**

> Anybody else find it hysterical how EVERY surviving Companion is a marriage candidate after the questline is over? I do. Teldryn doesn't.

He'd never been the jealous type. But the attention his patron was getting from the occupants of Jorrvaskr would set anyone off. 

 

There was so much touching. Hugs and pats and the stray hand that drifted too low on the back, Teldryn was far from calm. Never before had he regretted staying his move as he did. But now, at the threat of losing her to practically any of the Companions, he itched to break his rule against fraternizing. 

One in particular, a large Nord standing next to his twin, was worryingly close. They shared the intimacy of past lovers, and he remembered that she had traveled with him before she left for Solstheim. The Nord, Farkas was his name, wrapped a hand around her waist as they all caught up with their Harbinger. Teldryn feared he would crack a tooth with how hard he clenched his jaw.

"Teldryn!" He turned at the sound of her voice, hoping his expression didn't stray from nonchalance. The arm dropped from her hip.

"Stop skulking over there, come tell them about your last patron!"

He smirked, of course she'd want him to tell  _ that one.  _ Her sense of humor never failed to entertain, especially if it poked fun of the present company. He moved to stand next to her and immediately launched into the well rehearsed story.

 

By the time he finished telling the dramatic tale of his determined ex-patron, and of the Orc warrior before then, and then of the time Finja had tripped and fell into the Riften canal, the Companions were in hysterics laughing.

Teldryn was grinning, even as the laughter died and they kept handing him  _ mead  _ of all things. He met eyes with the other Dunmer in the group who laughed at the face he made at the Nord drink. Finja had moved them all to one of the long tables by the fire and was listening to the tall redhead recount their recent struggle against a few trolls.

 

He’d been doing well to ignore the lingering stares, just as he’d ignored the physical contact. But somehow his patron, the  _ Harbinger _ as he’d found out, had most of the little group wrapped around her finger. Teldryn missed whatever witty thing she’d said and was pulled from his thoughts when somebody reached across the table and cheekily mussed her hair. Finja just laughed and played along, the air so thick with camaraderie and barely concealed desire that it was impossible to maintain boundaries. 

An effect that didn't miss the irritable sellsword.

He took a long swig of the sickeningly sweet alcohol and wrapped an arm around the Breton’s shoulders. His fingers ached from clenching into a fist and he knew Finja wouldn't shake him off. Hopefully his point would get across to everyone else in the room. She looked over at him and he kept his demeanor casual, only giving her a nonchalant glance and a raised eyebrow.

He glanced around at the others, and found their reactions unsatisfying. Despite the silent competition, they seemed unfazed by the possessive arm around their Harbinger.

 

Oh, how that egged him on. He could only imagine what it would take to shock them. Where his hand would have to travel, maybe pull her onto his lap…  and sink in hilt deep, taking her right here on the table in front of them. 

That was a dangerous thought to have without his armor on. But he glanced over to his patron, leaning into his arm and offering no complaints about the fingers stroking her bare shoulder. How compliant he imagined she could be, writhing and begging him for more despite the presence of her shield siblings.

 

Finja leaned forward out of his embrace and switched out Athis’s tankard for his own, despite the redhead’s irritation. When she handed it to him, she gave him an encouraging nod. Eyebrow raised, he brought it to his lips. It was mazte. His look of surprise brought a grin of wicked pride across her face and she leaned to whisper in his ear. 

“I smuggle it into Jorrvaskr for him every time we get back from Solstheim.”

Her warm breath on his ear felt tantalizingly good, and the arm she’d vacated found its way to her thigh and squeezed affectionately. The little huff of air she let out sent shivers of anticipation down Teldryn’s spine. He’d always wondered where all the drinks she bought from Geldis went.

Before the burn of liquid courage could fade, he slid his hand farther down her thigh, brushing against her sex just enough to catch her attention. She gripped the offending arm and stifled a gasp, keeping her eyes on Aela, who had just finished her tale. His fingers took no time starting their teasing. Unruly nails bit into his arm and he watched the air catch in her throat, eyes wide from the touches she did not push away.

 

They were drawing attention and he knew he had to distract her before she got nervous, so he pressed a finger hard against her clit and hovered his lips next to her ear. 

“ _ Get on my lap _ ”

By the grace of Sanguine himself, she actually complied. The flustered Breton clambered over him and kissed hard. 

 

Teldryn heard a noise of surprise come from one of the Companions, and he grinned. One hand shifted Finja’s hips tortuously over his own, and the other shoved away anything on the table in front of him. He lifted the Breton with ease and sat her on the table, standing to wrap her legs around his waist and grind into her willing form. This got him a little moan, so he rewarded her with a long kiss. 

 

He wasn't quite ready for her, but that just gave him an excuse to make sure Finja was plenty ready for him. Their eyes met and she seemed far lost in lust, a look Teldryn quite liked on his favorite patron. Warm fingers traced the tattoos and lines on his face, and for a moment he felt bad for fucking her so publically. But he cast those thoughts away and placed his mouth on her neck, pulling on the skin with his teeth and sucking. 

Her moaned “ _ Gods _ , Teldryn!” was like music to his ears, and the sound of a chair screeching across the floor a serenade. He glanced up from his task and saw the Imperial girl practically jump out of her seat. The distraction Ria caused kept everyone else in their seats long enough for the sellsword to push his patron down onto the table and finish working the blue dress over her thighs and waist.

Finja lifted her hips to meet his, pulling a groan from both of them, and causing a few mugs to rattle. That seemed to be the breaking point. Teldryn watched the Companions retreat downstairs and away from the display, meeting the eyes of anyone he could with a smirk.

 

The door closed and he looked down at the woman with her legs around his waist. Their eyes met and he smirked down at her. 

“Do you have a room downstairs?”

“At the end of the hall” she managed between pants. He took no time in picking her up and carrying her to it. Most of the Companions seemed to have fled into their rooms, so Teldryn was sure to leave the door open.

 

Dropping the dragonborn on her bed, Teldryn pulled off his clothes before returning to helping Finja out of hers. She dragged her eyes over his form as she settled onto the blankets. 

“Gods, Tel, I've wanted you so bad.”

Crawling over her, she unfolded, opening to accompany his body. Strong legs wrapped around his waist as he moved between them, and Teldryn fit his mouth to hers. He sucked on Finja’s tongue as he pressed into her heat, and it slipped from his lips with an obscene noise as she moaned. 

 

_ Quickly _ she adjusted to his length, so  _ quickly _ was the pace he set. 

 

Finja gripped the back of his arms, clawing, and gasped at his sharp thrusts. He nipped at her collarbone and thumbed over a nipple, reveling in the little groan. 

Sitting up gave him a new angle, one that had Finja all but screaming. It gave him a view of his cock shoving in and out of his patron, and the flush that spanned from her face to bouncing chest. That was a look Teldryn liked even  _ better _ on his favorite patron.

“ _ Harder _ , Tel, by the  _ gods _ , don't stop!”

Pride swelled in his chest, and he gathered the woman’s legs and pulled them over his shoulders.

“Say it louder _.” _

Gasps tore her words apart and she threw her head back as he rocked into her hard enough to make the old bed creak. Her fingers dug into his forearms, painfully so, and he  _ loved it _ .

 

Bloody fucking Mephala, they had better be able to hear this out there. Especially the one twin-  _ especially him _ , that damn Nord with his hands all over her...

“ _ Say my name _ , Finja,” he drawled, needing them to hear.

“T-Tel… fuck...”

Bending to nip her ear he threw all his weight into her, gasping and cursing his old bones. But the position was perfect, getting just that extra inch he needed to make her  _ scream. _

“ _ Louder _ ”

“TELDRYN,  _ DIVINES _ , TELDRYN”

She dug her fingers into his skin, cursing and taking the pounding while he groaned into her hair.  _ Boethiah’s tits _ , he wasn't going to be able to do this much longer.

Pleasure wracked his nerves and heightened his senses, making the pain of nails and aching joints clash with the ecstasy of frenzied coupling. Finja tightened around him, gasping and clinging desperately. He rode her high, his rhythm falling apart and groans unchecked. Only when the teeth on his shoulder and arms around him went slack did he release, buried deep inside the Breton with a last few shaky thrusts.

 

It took a moment and a few shaky pants to recover, before untangling their limbs, and Teldryn removing himself carefully in respect of sensitive nerves. Then they lay there, catching their breath in relative silence. 

 

“What in Oblivion was that about, Tel?”

He turned to look at Finja, who was giving him a serious look, and brushed a loose hair off her forehead absently.

“Scaring off the competition, I suppose.”

She snorted and gave him a shove.  

“ _ Competition _ , yeah right. Come and carry me to the tub over there we’re a mess.”

“I’m your mercenary, not your servant.”

“You're also my lover, who has made me incapable of walking so get-  _ wipe that grin off your face, old man _ .”

Teldryn snickered as he crawled off the bed.

“This  _ old man _ just made you howl his name so loud the Plains District could hear you. Pardon me for being a little smug.”

  
Not that he needed the Plains District to hear. Only the people down the hall...


End file.
